Hamlet, Prince of Sank
by Rykaine
Summary: Poor William's probably rolling in his grave...


Hamlet, Prince of Denmark

The Cast 

Claudius:  Zechs                                 

Hamlet:  Trowa (not Heero!)

Polonius:  Howard                             

Horatio:  Heero (Ha! He survives!)

Laertes:  Wufei                                  

Ophelia:  Quatre  (surprise surprise)

Voltimond, Cornelius, Osric, clowns:  Doctors 

Rosencrantz:  Dorothy                   

Guildenstern:  Relena

Fortinbras:  Trieze

Gertrude:  Noin

Ghost:  Duo

Players:  Sally, Hilde, Cathy

Priest, Marcellus, Bernardo, Francisco, Reynold, Captain, English Ambassador:  Not important enough to be GW characters

**Disclaimer:  I'm not fortunate enough to own Gundam Wing, and I'm not intelligent enough(or old enough!) to have written _Hamlet, Prince of Denmark_, therefore, neither are mine.

On with the play

Act I, scene I: 

Bernardo:  Who's there?

Francisco:  Why don't you tell me first?

Bern:  Long live the King.

Fran:  Bernardo… ?

Bern:  He

Fran:  Mighty punctual you are, sir.

Bern:  It's midnight, you should turn in.

Fran:  Thanks, I was feeling ill anyway.

Bern:  It's been quiet tonight?

Fran:  Not a mouse stirring.  (Oh my god—an honest to God Shakespeare line)

Bern:  Goodnight, tell Horatio and Marcellus to move their asses if you see them.

Fran:  Is that they?  Stop!  Who are you?

Heero:  Friends

Marcellus:  Rather important men we are.

Fran:  Goodnight

Marc:  Bye, who took over for you?

Fran:  Bernardo did, goodnight.

Marc:  Hey Bernie!

Bern:  Is Horatio there?

Heero:  For the most part,

Bern:  Welcome to you both

Marc:  Has the thing appeared?

Bern:  Not that I've seen.

Marc:  Horatio says it's a figment of our imaginations; so I brought him along to prove him wrong.

Heero:  I'm telling you, there's no such thing

Bern:  Let's reminisce

Heero:  Let's sit and let Bernie talk

Bern:  When that there star lit up that area over yonder…  (bell beats one, Duo enters as Ghost)

Marc:  Damn, what I tell you?  There it is.

Bern:  It almost looks like the dead King.  Maybe… .

Marc:  You're smart, Horatio, you go talk to him.

Bern:  Don't you think he resembles the king?

Heero:  Somewhat, although I don't recall him having that braid… hmm … .

Bern:  You should talk to him.

Marc:  Ask it something, ask it something.

Heero:  Who the hell are you and where did you come from?  Answer me!

Marc:  I don't think it liked your tone.

Bern:  See, you pissed him off.

Heero:  Damn you, I demand the you tell me!

Marc:  He's gone.  I don't think he wants to talk to you.

Bern:  Do you believe us **now **Horatio?  Told you so.

Heero:  Yea, yea, sorry to have doubted you.

Marc:  Didn't he look like the king.

Heero:  Not really.  The king was far older than that fair vision.  I know not who that braided beauty was.

Marc:  He's done this to us twice before.

Heero:  I don't really know what to think, but I see bad things in our future.

Marc:  Why must he always come at the time of our watch?  Why can't he haunt some other guys?

Heero:  I'm thinking maybe Hamlet and Fortinbras may have somehow been involved in all these goings on.

Bern:  Why does that thing always come armed?  It's as if he's ready for battle.

Heero:  Little itty-bitty things can cause really, really big bad things to happen.  (Duo comes back)  Please tell me what you desire, I'll see to it that it be done.  Marcellus, stop him.

Marc:  Should I hit it?

Heero:  Sure, why not?

Bern:  He's here

Heero:  No shit

Marc:  Damn, he left (Duo leaves).  We probably shouldn't have threatened him.  I don't think he liked that.

Bern:  It would have spoken had it not been for the damned rooster.

Heero:  He must have been frightened by the coming of day.

Marc:  Daylight is special, ghosts can't walk then.

Heero:  Let's retire and tell Hamlet what we saw.  Maybe the damned thing will talk to him.  Sound good to you?

Marc:  Sure, lets go.  I know where he is.

Scene II 

Somewhere in the castle:

_King, Queen, Hamlet, Polonius, Voltimond, Laertes, Cornelius, and others enter._

King:  Let us remember my dear departed brother in this time of grief in a good light.  Let us try to maintain what lands the ingrate didn't lose to Fortinbras.  (to Volt(Dr.J) and Corn(Prof.G))  Go take care of the situation as best you can.

J/G:  You can count on us, sir!

Zechs:  I don't doubt it, now leave (J and G go).  So Laertes, how go things for you.  You mentioned something earlier, so what is it?  What do you want?  Speak up!

Wufei:  I want to go to France.  I really only came back because duty required that I do so.  Now that I've done that can I **please** go back?

Zechs:  Is it ok with your father?

Howard:  Yea, sure, it's fine.  Just send the boy away already.

Zechs:  Leave then Laertes.  Take your time about it, don't rush.  Now… Hamlet.

Trowa (aside):  A little more than kin but less than kind.  (Wow—another Shakespeare line!)

Zechs:  Why are you still grieving?  

Trowa:  I'm not, I'm ever so happy.

Noin:  Stop wearing black, and stop looking upon Denmark as though it were some plague.  Realize your father is dead and stop moping about.  Death is fairly common I've been told.

Trowa:  Yes, I've been told the same.  Apparently we aren't all immortal.

Noin:  If that's so, why do you continually focus on it.  It's morbid.

Trowa:  I'm not fascinated with it, I'm just really, really sad.

Zechs:  It's good that you give such devotion to your dead father; however, remember too that his father and the father before that and the father before that and the father before that and the father before that and the father before that and the… Ow!(Noin elbows him)What!—OH!  //ahem//**… **anyway, all those guys died too.   So get over it and such.

Noin:  Please don't leave.  One needs family at times like these.

Trowa:  Umm… sure… ok… why not?

Zechs:  That was such a sweet reply.  Now the heavens shall sing for you.

_Everyone but Hamlet leaves_

Dun dun dun—Hamlet's first of **many** soliloquies:

Trowa:  Damn you God, why must it be mortal sin to kill myself?  This world is really just a waste of time.  Things grow overmuch and become overrun by weeds.  My father was a good man who really loved my mother; he would do anything to see her.  Yet, she barely grieved a minute before she moved to my uncle and saw fit to marry him.  The whore, she could have at least waited 'til he had started to decay, but alas I was not consulted and therefore cannot speak now.  Damn them.

_Enter Horatio, Marcellus, and Bernardo_

Heero:  Hey Ham, how goes it?

Trowa:  Good to see you again—I think.

Heero:  Ditto, oh and umm… I'm still your slave or something.  (pulls script out from God knows where and flips through it)  Umm… I really don't see why I should have to be anyone's slave.  I mean, I'm the Perfect Soldier, shouldn't **he** be **my** slave.  And while we're at it, how come I'm not Hamlet?  Once again, I am the PS, I think I should get all the starring roles.  Since when does Trowa have more importance than I?

Director:  Heero, it's not always about you.  Now can we please just continue?

Heero:  Oh fine… (grumbles and returns the script to God knows where) //ahem//  Ditto, oh and umm… I'm still your slave.

Trowa:  I'll trade places.  Now I'm your slave.

Heero (aside):  Damn skippy.

Trowa:  Now what brings you here?

Heero:  A truant disposition my good lord.  (pulls script out again; rereads line)  What the hell does that mean?  (looks at Trowa; Trowa shrugs: beats me)

Trowa:  Don't lie to me.  I wouldn't believe it of the enemy.  If you lie, you lie to yourself over me.  Now speak.

Heero:  I wanted to be present at the funeral.

Trowa:  Don't mock me.  You know damn well you wanted to see my mother's wedding.

Heero:  Yep.  Can you blame me?  It did follow almost directly after the man was buried.

Trowa:  I'm telling you I can still see the old dead guy.  I must be losing it.

Heero:  Where?

Trowa:  In my head.  I think they're called memories.

Heero:  I saw him once.  He was ok.

Trowa:  He was really just a man.  Not worth remembering after today.

Heero:  You know, I only just saw him the other night.

Trowa:  Saw who?

Heero:  You father dumbass.  We were just discussing him.

Trowa:  The King, my father?

Heero:  I do believe I just said that.  These other guys saw him with me.

Trowa:  Do tell, do tell.

Heero:  Thrice now, some apparition, trying to resemble your father and failing miserably, has interrupted the watch of these two men.  He won't say a damned word, and on the third night they brought me, but even when threatened with bodily harm, he wouldn't speak.  So I figure that since he is attempting to resemble the now dead Hamlet, he might want to talk to you.  Although why I can't just relay the message to you is beyond my comprehension.  After all I am trustworthy am I not.  I am the PS!  It's a blow to my very pride to know that not even a ghost trusts me with—

Director:  That's not in the script!

Trowa:  So… umm… where did this take place?

Marc:  Up on the platform where we watch.

Trowa:  Did you try talking to it?

Heero:  I do believe I've already addressed that issue.  He only moves and walks and then leaves.  

Trowa:  That's weird.

Heero:  We know.  That's why we came to tell you.  

Trowa:  I'm concerned.  Are you watching again tonight?

Marc/Bern:  Yep yep yep

Trowa:  Did you say he was armed?

Marc/Bern:  Yep yep yep

Trowa:  Completely?

Marc/Bern:  Yep yep yep

Trowa:  Did you see his face?

Heero:  A vision of beauty.

Trowa (ignoring Horatio):  Did he look sad?

Heero:  He was anything but sad. (all dreamy eyed).  

Trowa:  Was he pale?

Heero:  He's a ghost, do you really think he's going to have any color?

Trowa:  Did he look at you?

Heero (sighs deeply):  Often, but not often enough.

Trowa (rolls his eyes):  I wish I had been there.

Heero:  You would have been impressed.

Trowa:  Sure sure.  Did he stay a while?

Heero:  Not nearly long enough.

Marc/Bern:  His stay was adequate.

Heero:  Not when I saw it.

Trowa:  Did he have a grizzled beard?

Heero:  Hell NO!  

Trowa:  I think I'll go tonight.  Maybe he'll make another appearance.

Heero:  Hopefully, but hands off, he's mine!

Trowa:  If he is my noble father, perhaps he'll speak to me.  I'll see you later tonight.  Bye!

All:  Sure, we'll be waiting.

Trowa:  I love you just as you love me.  Ciao!

_Everyone but Hamlet leaves_

Trowa:  If my father's spirit roams then all must not be well.  Damn, why can't things just go right for me?

Scene III 

Somewhere in Polonius' villa.

_Enter Laertes and Ophelia_

Wufei:  My things are already on their way, I should go too.  Write often, sister… brother… umm… yeah, write often.

Quatre:  You know I will.

Wufei:  Avoid that pissant Hamlet as much as possible.  He's kinda just using you or some such thing.

Quatre:  Huh?

Wufei:  Right now he pays you favor, but with time comes changes in both appearance and emotions.  Just because he claims you now, does not me he will later.  Me thinks the man is slowly losing his mind.  Wait it out and if still he can say he loves you then decide for yourself.  Be your own judge.  However, in his youth I believe he knows not what he wants.

Quatre:  Yeah sure, I'll remember your words.  Just make certain you do the same.

Wufei:  I'm late, I'm late, I'm very, very late.  (enter Polonius).  God speed.

Howard:  Leave with my favor and forget me not.  Don't be crude and do not allow your friends to take advantage of you.  Listen carefully, but be reserved in what you speak.  Don't lend money, don't borrow money, and… and… and… umm…—oh yeah!—//ahem//  This above all to thine own self be true!  

Wufei:  Bye dad!

Howard:  It's time for you to leave.  Go!

Wufei:  Bye, sis… bro… umm… bye!  Remember my advice.

Quatre:  Yeah, yeah I remember.

Wufei:  Ciao!

Howard:  What did that boy tell you?

Quatre:  Stuff about Ham.

Howard:  That's nice.  He mentioned something about being with you often.  So spill—I want all the juicy details.

Quatre:  He's made advances.

Howard:  He's hitting on you.  Do you believe what he tells you?

Quatre:  I can't really be certain.

Howard:  Well, let me explain it to you.  Don't take what he gives at face value.  Demand further proof and such.  If you fall into such a trap without having validated his words, you insult me.

Quatre:  He has professed his love quite honorably

Howard:  Fine.

Quatre:  Having affirmed he means it, I trust him.

Howard:  He could very well be lying when he gives these proclamations.  Set your standards somewhat higher and make him work to gain your affections.  Make him come to you.

Quatre:  Whatever you say, sir.

Scene IV 

Platform thingy

_Enter Hamlet, Horatio, and Marcellus_

Trowa:  Damn it's cold out here.

Heero:  Yes it is.  Funny that.

Trowa:  What time is it?

Heero:  It's not quite twelve yet.

Marc:  No, it's twelve.

Heero:  Really?  I never heard the chimes.  (Trumpets and stuff sound off—somewhere).  What does this mean Ham?

Trowa:  The King's up and walking around tonight.  As he stands the instruments sound off his glory.

Heero:  That's customary?

Trowa:  Unfortunately so.  It's not really observed, we just do it because some guy dictated it should be done.  It's apparently manners or something.

Heero:  Hey, there he is.  (Duo enters)

Trowa:  Do you hail from heaven or hell?  Do you bring good news or bad?  I assume you to be my father so I'll call you Hamlet.  What say you spirit?  Don't leave me hanging, why have you awakened from your grave?  (Duo beckons Trowa forward)

Heero (stares starry-eyed at Duo):  I think he wants you to follow him.  (Glares at Trowa)Some friend you are.  (Glares at Duo)  Lousy two-timing spirit.

Marc:  Look how eagerly he waves to Hamlet.  I do not think you should follow.

Heero:  Nor do I.  I should hate to have to kill you now.

Trowa:  He won't speak unless I follow.

Heero:  If you value our friendship you won't follow.

Trowa:  Do you believe I should be afraid?  See?  There he goes waving to me again.  I believe I will follow him.

Heero:  Fine.  As long as it's just talk.

Trowa:  Take a chill pill.

Heero:  Be ruled; you shall not go.

Trowa:  He doesn't turn me on; I just want to know what's up.  Don't worry, he's yours.  Anyone who tries to stop me shall be made a ghost as well.  (to Duo).  Lead on.

Heero (aside to Marc):  He waxes desperate with imagination.

Marc:  Huh?

Heero:  He's going crazy.

Marc:  Oh.  Then we should probably follow.

Heero:  Yea, let's go; I wanna see the ghost some more.

Marc:  Something is rotten in L3 Colony Cluster.

Director:  Denmark!

Marc:  Huh?

Director:  It's Denmark.  'Something is rotten in the state of Denmark.'

Heero:  Denmark isn't a state.

_Director screams; attacks Heero; Marc breaks up fight, play continues._

Marc:  Something is rotten in L3 Colony Cluster.  (Director sighs)

Heero:  Yea, Hamlet's with **my** ghost.

Marc (rolls eyes):  Let's get going.

Scene V 

Trowa:  Where are you taking me?  I'm not moving another step until you tell me.

Duo:  Mark me.

Trowa:  I will if you don't tell me what's going on.

Duo:  No, no, I mean listen to me.

Trowa:  'Bout damn time.

Duo:  My hour's almost come, when I to sulphurous and tormenting flames must render up myself.

Trowa:  Dude that sucks.

Duo:  Don't worry I'm used to it.  Just listen.

Trowa:  Waiting… .

Duo:  So art thou to avenge when thou shalt hear.

Trowa:  What?  (Actual line—Swear to God)

Duo:  I'm **not** thy father's spirit.  Doom'd for certain term to walk the night and for the day confined to fast and fires because I lost a bet to your damned father.  To tell the secrets of the bet, I could a tale unfold whose lightest word would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood, make thy one uncovered eye like a star start from its sphere, thy knotted and combined locks to part, and each particular hair to stand on end like quills upon the fretful porpentine… but I was drunk at the time and don't recall most of it.  The jist of it is: if you really like your father—

Trowa:  What already?  Get to the point!

Duo:  Revenge his foul and most unnatural murder.

Trowa:  Murder?!

Duo:  Murder most foul as in the best it is; but this one waaaaaaaaaaaaay worse.

Trowa:  Mission: Accepted

Duo:  Basically—everyone thinks Daddy dear was bitten by a snake in the garden while catching some Zs; however, the real culprit now wears his crown.  (last line is verbatim!)

Trowa:  I knew it!  My uncle did it!  Damn I'm good.

Duo:  Your backstabbing, pretty boy uncle used his wiles to seduce your mother.  Your father's really upset about that, he's kinda pissed.  He's really torn up about this because he spent years and years adoring her and now she's off with your second-rate uncle.  You know he seems like such a nice guy—I can't believe she'd do something like that to him.  It's awful, just awful; what is this world coming to?  Oh, shit! It's almost morning, better make this fast.

Trowa (aside):  Too late.

Duo:  While he was catching his afternoon nap, your uncle snuck in and stuck a very potent poison in his ears—why the hell would you put poison in someone's ears; that's really weird.  Anyways… it did some really funky, bizarre, and horrible things to your father that eventually killed him.  Then he took the throne and queen without giving him a chance to repent; that's why he's sitting in hell wanting you to get revenge.  O, horrible! O horrible! Most horrible!  Don't let them get away with it.  Leave your mother out of it, he'll take care of her later.  Gotta go, but one more thing.

Trowa:  What?!

Duo:  Who's the cutie I saw the night before.  (Trowa hangs head in hands)

Trowa (long sigh):  He's my friend Horatio.

Duo:  What's his number?  

_Trowa, snarling, writes number down and throws paper at Duo.  Duo grins and exits._

Dun dun dun—Hamlet's second soliloquy:

Trowa:  Heart be strong, muscles don't give out.  Help me get revenge because if I screw up I'll have to see that ghost again.  I don't care how pretty my uncle is, he's gonna pay!  My name is Hamlet, you killed my father, prepare to die.[I]

Marc/Heero (offstage):  Yo, Ham!  

Marc:  Hey Hamlet.

Heero:  Where's the ghost?

Trowa:  Don't worry, I gave him your number.

Heero:  Score!

_Enter Heero and Marcellus_

Marc:  How'd it go?

Heero:  So who was that lovely vision?

Trowa:  Never got is name.

Heero:  Damn it.  Why not?

Trowa:  We were discussing more important things.

Heero:  What could possibly be more important?

Trowa:  It's a secret, don't trust you.

Heero:  Like I care.  Why would I tell?

Marc:  I won't tell.

Trowa:  Cross your hearts and hope to die?

Heero/Marc:  Aye, by heaven.

Trowa:  There's a villain among us; he's really bad

Heero:  Well duh!

Trowa:  Oh, shut-up.  Now you know so let's all go to bed.

Heero:  Well you don't have to be so mean.

Trowa:  My bad.

Heero:  Forget about it.

Trowa:  I've just been told by a ghost that my father was murdered by my uncle.  More over, my best friend's been mooning over the ghost all night, and now I find I have to get revenge, which means no social life whatsoever, so do me a favor you two.

Heero:  What?

Trowa:  Don't tell anyone about this.

Heero/Marc:  No worries.

Trowa:  Swear it?

Heero:  We just said we wouldn't.

Marc:  Jeez we said we'd be quiet.

Trowa:  Upon my sword.

Marc:  We have sworn, my lord, already.

Trowa:  Not good enough, I said upon my sword.

Duo (from beneath):  Swear.

Trowa:  Ha the ghost said so.  Swear it!

Heero:  If I keep saying no will the ghost come back?

Trowa (threatens Heero with sword):  Swear never to speak of this or you'll regret it.

Duo (from beneath):  Swear.

Trowa:  See?  He said it again.  So get a move on and swear already.

Heero:  But if I swear he'll go away.

Trowa:  Would you focus?!  Would you just once and for all, swear by my sword and keep your mouth shut?

Duo (from beneath):  Swear.

Trowa (to Duo):  Shut-up already.  If you keep talking he won't do anything.

_They all swear._

Trowa:  For the time being keep your mouths shut; the time is out of joint:  O, cursed spite, that I was ever born to set it right!  Now it's time for bed.

Heero (walks off sadly):  Maybe I'll see him in my dreams….

  


* * *

[I] hehehe, I just couldn't resist.


End file.
